


Worthy

by Trobadora



Series: Mord'Sith Cycle [4]
Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: F/M, Power Dynamics, agiel play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-29
Updated: 2011-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-15 05:12:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/157381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trobadora/pseuds/Trobadora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>There's no thrill quite as heady as this.</i> - A pre-<i>Reckoning</i> encounter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worthy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Porn Battle XI](http://oxoniensis.livejournal.com/472424.html) and the prompt "Cara/Darken, master".

Darken Rahl trails the leather rod up Cara's naked thigh, along her side, slowly, maddeningly. It's almost gentle, the way an agiel can be gentle: a sharp, burning pain travelling across her body, leaving no welts, only hypersensitivity in its wake.

He knows how to wield an agiel as well as any Mord'Sith.

Cara closes her hand over his, feels the agiel thrum its pain through his fingers into hers. For a moment they hold perfectly still, Cara straddling Darken Rahl on the ornate bed. Then she smirks at him. "Are you ready, my lord?"

The corners of his mouth turn up into a dark smile. "The question is, Mistress Cara - are you?" His voice is smooth and seductive, but she knows it can turn stinging within an instant.

"I'm always ready for the Lord Rahl," she promises in her sultriest voice. Cara is no fool; she knows what will happen if she missteps here, if she crosses the unspoken boundaries. He is who he is.

But confidence like this ... it's tempting. Part of her wants to break him; another part recoils from the thought.

There are few who can meet a Mord'Sith's gaze without hesitation; he meets hers with utter confidence. He is the Lord Rahl, of course; all the Mord'Sith serve him. But he, inexplicably, _likes_ the Sisters of the Agiel, and he's sure not only of his authority over her and her sisters, but of his ability to handle whatever they have to give.

She can never resist this, testing the boundaries, testing _him_.

He holds on for another moment, then he lets her take the agiel from his fingers, watching her with heavy eyes. She spins it in her hand, touches it to her own breasts for a moment. Her nipples harden, and his eyes darken. Cara grins, baring her teeth. She brushes the agiel against his chest lightly, and his mouth opens a little. After a moment she offers him a longer touch, rolls the agiel over his ribs, and watches his muscles tense in response, watches the shiver of gooseflesh, watches his tendons strain.

He strains towards her, not away.

He knows how to take an agiel as well as any Mord'Sith.

They say some of his predecessors could not even hold an agiel. Cara doesn't want to imagine serving such a man, Lord Rahl or no. She smiles to herself at the delicious blasphemy and looks at the man beneath her, her lord and master. She leans down and kisses him hungrily, her long braid pooling beside his head. The agiel is trapped between their chests, its magic vibrating sharp spikes of pain through both of them. His arms wrap around her, tightly.

An agiel can stop a heart, or restart it. But like this, it's only delicious, sweet agony, enhancing every sensation as its power shivers through her skin, her flesh.

Cara rises to her knees and moves away, no longer straddling him. Her agiel is firm in her hand. She nudges his thighs apart with a knee, and he opens them willingly, breathing hard. As she is.

Her agiel caresses the insides of his thighs, and she watches his muscles tense, his tendons strain, his cock harden. She licks her lips.

She brushes the agiel against his balls, and he nearly lifts off the bed. Cara smirks at him, wickedly. His hand cups her cheek for a moment, then moves to the back of her head, pulling her down on his cock. She opens her mouth further and tastes it, teases him with her tongue and her lips until, impatiently, he pulls the agiel from her hand. Then, she adds teeth.

He draws patterns of pain on her back while she nips along the ridge. It feels like lashes, and like burning. Cara arches, almost lazily. His control is magnificent.

Cara wraps her hand around his balls and squeezes as she takes him in as far as he'll go. He grips her head, roughly, with one hand, his other holds the agiel flat across her shoulders. _Yes._ Her fingers move further down, towards his opening. He thrusts hard, deep against the back of her throat, and her fingers push into him just as hard. She swallows him as he comes.

When he lets her lift her head, his body is relaxed. He moans a little when her fingers leave him, but his hand twirls the agiel as she sits up, comfortable with it as if he were Mord'Sith himself. He smiles lazily. Then his eyes turn wicked, and the agiel touches her belly. This time it's a stab, a single sharp pain that spikes down, straight between her thighs, and she gasps as her interior muscles contract involuntarily. She is dripping wet, and her clit is aching. She wants to touch it. She wants to rub herself against him. She wants _him_ to ...

Not yet. Perhaps not at all, if she makes even the slightest mistake.

Cara reaches out and takes the agiel from his fingers, brushes it across his lips. He opens his mouth to take it in. She knows how it thrums against the teeth; many who otherwise can take much more are unable to take this and stay focused. Not he.

His hand closes over hers, and he guides the agiel deeper into his mouth. She stares at him, her eyes dilated. It's the most arousing thing she's seen in a long time. Then his grip shifts, and he moves the agiel to her mouth. She repeats his gesture. Anything he can do, she can certainly do. She is Mord'Sith; he may be the Lord Rahl, but he is still only a man.

Except that he's not.

She wonders who trained him; who taught him this endurance; who gave him this strength. Surely not even he can have taught this to himself.

After a while, she takes the agiel again and moves back between his thighs, reaches behind his balls again. He watches her with dark, impenetrable eyes.

Then her agiel is against his opening, and his spent cock jumps a little just from that.

"More?" she asks, her best smirk on her face, but her eyes must be as dark as his. There's no thrill quite as heady as this, testing her master's endurance, making him prove himself worthy of her service.

His lip curls in amused superiority: his eyes are intense and purposeful. "You are Mord'Sith, Cara. Surely you can anticipate your master's wishes?" His voice slides over her like an agiel's caress.

She thrusts in reply, impaling him on the agiel, pushing its agony into him deep. Its hum vibrates through his entire body. She pulls it out a little, then thrusts back in. He takes it - more than takes it; his thighs are wide and welcoming, and he's arching into each thrust, demanding more with every movement. His cock is hard and straining again.

She spreads her free hand on his belly, brushing it over his skin. There's a fine sheen of sweat, and a trace of gooseflesh. His nipples are as hard as hers. She pinches one of them, and he laughs. Strength and triumph shine in his eyes.

Cara knows he'd never do this with Denna, even though she's his favourite. Denna seduces, and the Lord Rahl cannot be seduced.

Cara, on the other hand, challenges. And he overcomes. He proves himself superior. Worthy of his power, of his rule. He knows it; she knows it.

Whether or not he'll let her come later, she knows she's accomplished her purpose here.


End file.
